The War of the Captains: Captain Thorne
by Penelope Grace
Summary: Captain Thorne and Captain Hook has a rivalry. The Crocodile awaits Hook's capture. Before the events of Scarlet. Written from Captain Thorne's POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own** _ **Cinder**_ **or any of its character. Marissa Meyer, who is awesome, does.**

 **This fanfic focuses on Captain Thorne while the other fanfic (** _ **The War of the Captains: Captain Hook**_ **) stars Captain Hook. Different POVs. I put them in separate stories, because I'm entering** _ **Captain Hook**_ **into a fanfic contest.**

 **Yes, Captain Hook refers to the Hook from** _ **Peter Pan**_ **. Captain Thorne will technically be Peter Pan. The Crocodile is Admiral Anyang Julo (character I made up).**

* * *

 _Part 1._

Carswell Thorne narrows his blue eyes at the list of potential recruits.

After stealing the Rampion from the American Republic military, the ship has become his and only his. But he needs a crew to run his beloved ship and help him on his job. His egotistical and less handsome competitor, "Captain" Hook, nicked Princess Diana's sapphire ring by 4.3 minutes. Thorne was held back by the dimwitted Po twins in Buckingham Palace. As rude and daft Hook may be, he does have a loyal but also ugly crew.

"Wilton Milton!" shouts Thorne, his voice louder than the bar's excessive chattering. "Wilton Milton, potential crew member for my ship!"

Wilton Milton, a strange little man possessing curious amber eyes, saunders over to Thorne's table. He sits across from him, his shortness even more apparent. His greasy black hair is in a dire need of shampoo and conditioner. "Aye, boss?"

Captain Thorne grins. Boss, he likes the sound of that. "What can you do?"

Twiddling his thumbs nervously, Milton replies, "I can fit into small spaces, Captain. I have good fingers too, sire. Thief's hands."

Thorne taps his chin, liking Milton instantly. "What do you think of Hook? He stole Princess Diana's ring among other…" He shakes his head in disgust. "...other conquests…"

Smiling, Milton answers, "We can do better than that, sire."

"I like you," drawls Thorne. His grin even grows wider.

* * *

With the backing of crew, Captain Thorne has a lighter workload. The first mate is Wilton Milton. Thorne also hired "Goode" Cook, "Punchy" Steele, Guerrero, Fox, and "Cross-Eyed" Cobb. Their first theft together was of a silver bracelet once belonging to a Russian princess. Half of 30,000 univs went to the crew, and the other half went to the Rampion's repairs.

Celebrating the job, Thorne and the crew drank to themselves and to the bracelet. A good catch. Hook's move, now.

Hook, a dark-haired Italian man, is tall and burly with a menacing beard. He struts up to Thorne, once Thorne's crew has left him for their own amusements. Hook pounds his drink on the table, roaring with laughter. "You'll never catch up to me, Thorne!"

Thorne roguishly winks at his waitress, who blushes and giggles. "Haven't you heard? Princess Anastasia's bracelet was stolen two hours ago."

Hook's laughter dies.

Hook glares darkly at Captain Thorne. Everyone knows Hook has his eye on Princess Anastasia's bracelet for the last six months. No one but Thorne dares to cross Hook in the galaxy. All knows of Hook's filthy temper and mean left fist.

"You're an idiot," sneers Hook.

"For what reason?" innocently replies Thorne, sipping his drink casually. He reaches for a napkin, but Hook's right hand—actually, a hook—nearly impales Thorne's wrist to the table. He holds Thorne down.

"Don't"—Hook grits, his white teeth baring—"you"—he glares at the younger captain—"mess"—he hisses—"with me"—then he adds, almost as if the word is an afterthought—" _boy_."

Thorne shivers, but he continues smiling coolly. "Well, it is Captain Carswell Thorne. Thorne. Captain. Or Captain Thorne."

Hook narrows his eyes, his hook raised to Thorne's chin. "One more word out of your mouth, and the ladies won't find you so pretty anymore."

Then Hook, in his dark jacket and black slacks, turns around and strolls away. He disappears into the crowd with a flourish.

Thorne raises his brown eyebrow. Thinking thoughtfully of his conversation with Hook, he mutters, "I wonder if I would look that stupid in a duster."

He imagines it.

"Nah," he concludes. "I'll look good."

* * *

Four months with Rampion. Three months with a crew. By now, the underground world knows of the legendary rivalry between the two captains. Captain Hook and Captain Thorne snark insults and concealed threats at each other under their breath. Truthfully, only Captain Hook makes concealed and rather vocal threats. Thorne, according to the words of Captain Hook, chooses "to let his idiocy and stupidity rule his life."

The two ships fight over nearly everything. Money, jewelry, bargains, alliances, and more. News spread of Hook gaining a second spaceship.

Thorne frowns at the news. He moans, "What should I do, Milton? Hook is vying for a fleet of spaceships."

"The Crocodile," answers Milton, sipping his flask. He offers it to Thorne, who thumps his head back in the captain's chair. The Rampion is steadily making its way to New Beijing.

Thorne turns to Milton, his bright eyes gleaming once more. "The Crocodile? The legendary Crocodile? The Admiral directly underneath Prime Minister Kamin?"

The Crocodile is Admiral Anyang Julo. Everyone of the crime world knows of Admiral Anyang Julo. Thirty-six years old, she hails from African Union. She is one of the deadliest military officers in the entire universe. Captain Hook is one of the few she never captured.

"Tick, tock." Milton winks.

"Tick, tock," repeats Thorne, smiling. He watches his beloved ship's computer systems. 12.3 hours before landing in New Beijing. "Hook, your time runs out."

Then he turns back to Milton. "How should we do this?"

"You're the captain," points out the first mate.

* * *

The Crocodile will arrest him on sight, if he approaches her. Thorne muses, trying to come up with a brilliant plan and failing to create a worthy one. Fireworks, explosions, a beautiful girl. Now, those elements will be excellent parts of the big plan, but Thorne knows Hook hates explosions and fireworks. He prefers sneakiness, silence, and the cover of night.

A beautiful girl? Perhaps one that will seduce Hook?

Hook would rather kiss the Crocodile than fall in love.

"Anything, sire?"

"Nothing," mutters Thorne.

He then lights up. Bait! Bait, that is it.

With a newfound skeleton of the big plan, Thorne creates the perfect plan. He isn't that far off, he realizes. Fireworks. Explosions.

And the beautiful girl will hold the entire plan together. She can make Thorne fail or succeed. She is the wild card.

* * *

"Ready?" Thorne whispers to his first mate.

He nods. "I'm ready."

The rest of the crew confirms their station.

He watches the sparkling building from the distance. Inside the bank, in the hidden vault below the basement, a beautiful gem called the Ashberg Diamond rests in Box 143b. The security measures are strong and nearly impossible to penetrate. Few have seen the diamond before, and no thief is foolish enough to steal it.

Until now.

Good thing everyone considers Thorne an idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

_Part 2._

Thorne sits in the receptionist's desk of the bank, tapping his fingers on the portscreen. He wishes he has radio or communication devices to talk with his crew, but the last time he had used them, Hook managed to use Thorne's frequency and nearly got his crew killed by some angry Arabian hijackers.

A polite cough forces Thorne to look up. An ebony-skinned woman in her early thirties narrows her eyes at the captain. She wears her business suit like another armor. "I wish to see a vault."

"Of course, miss…?" Thorne pauses, resisting the urge to wink at the pretty woman. She is beautiful, but she is deadly with her words.

"It is Admiral."

Thorne shivers. He never wants to cross the Crocodile even if two hundred men are on his side. Her reputation doesn't exaggerate her lethal stare and piercing black eyes.

He stands up and leads her to the elevator. Adjusting his navy-blue collar with a wince, he watches the numbers change.

2.

1.

B1.

B2.

B3.

It seems to be a numbing forever when the doors of this metal coffin open. The vault has three security guards. Thorne, used to these faces after two weeks of prepping and recon, nod at them. Admiral Julo's security identification number easily allows the duo to bypass the pesky barriers between the Ashberg Diamond and him.

He opens up the Crocodile's safety box. The bank is rather old-fashioned. In order to crack some of the locks, thieves have to learn Second Era lockpicking. Few, if any, knows that skill.

The Crocodile peers into her box, and then she takes out an old watch. She smiles briefly at the piece and then turns to Thorne. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Thorne gulps. This isn't part of the plan. "Yes…" He stammers, adjusting his sleeve. "It is from Second Era, Admiral?"

"It has been in my family for over four hundred years," she mutters. Then she raises a cool eyebrow at Thorne. "But you already know that, Cadet Carswell Thorne, don't you?"

Thorne backs away, looking towards the closed elevator doors. He gulps again, immediately fearing for his life. "How…?"

She taps her forehead. "Few things get by me. I also heard of your rivalry with Captain Hook. How is that old fellow these days? His hand feeling alright?"

"I wouldn't know," answers Thorne. "We don't discuss… those matters." He shuffles his feet, eyeing her careful movements. _Please don't kill me, please don't kill me_ , he thinks.

"Do you know how many years I have been chasing Hook?"

"Fifteen."

"Ever since he hijacked one of my ships and crashed it into the Indian Ocean," says the Crocodile. "I have been trying to catch him. A few dozen servers list his crimes. I have more than enough evidence to put him away. However, he always wrangles a way out of my clutch."

"What does this have to do with me?" Thorne's mind twists and turns. He sees a glimmer of light ahead, and he knows he has one chance.

"You know why."

Then Thorne smiles.

He barely notices the way the Crocodile smiles too.

* * *

He sits in the corner of the bar, sipping his fruity drink. Watching Hook sit in the opposite corner, Thorne sighs. He really doesn't want to do this, but it is either him or Hook. He doesn't want his twelve-man crew go to African Union's jail. He heard of the terrible shoes prisoners have to wear. Admiral Julo gleefully issues ridiculous rules about shower times and soap limits in her spare time.

Hook, once again, drinks a pink fruity shake. Thorne doesn't criticize his taste. The strawberry is to die for, he thinks.

Thorne nervously makes his way up to the older, more experienced captain. Holding a drink, he puts a careful arm on Hook's shoulder. "Hey, Hook! How are you doing?"

Hook sips his drink.

"The Hope Diamond."

Thorne's face falls. The rivalry. He nearly forgotten about it.

"Reported missing nine hours ago," says Hook, smiling darkly. He grins smugly at the younger man.

"The Ashberg Diamond."

"Old news." Hook's right hand waves it away. "You're behind, Thorne. It is hard to keep up, isn't it?"

Thorne grins, knowing he has some upper hand. "Sure."

He takes a long sip from his straw, winking at Admiral Julo's secretary. She blushes hard, and Thorne finds myself not minding the company of some military women.

"Well?" She laughs, adjusting her skimpy dress. "You did it?"

"Tracker is in his pocket. He is yours." Thorne drinks from his shake. Three months of freedom. Three months of no military personnel on his trail. What shall he do now?

"I'll tell my boss." The dark-skinned assistant quickly presses a button in her handbag and then turns her full attention back to the handsome "Captain" Thorne. "Done. What should we do now, Thorne?"

"It is Captain," he flirts, smiling. "Captain Thorne."

The secretary tilts her head. Her mouth forms the vowels and the syllables of his name. "Captain." In a louder voice, she repeats, "Captain. Not a bad title. Better than a cadet from the American Republic."

"What can I say? I moved up."

"In illegal ways."

"Allegedly illegal ways," corrects the captain.

"Okay." She laughs.

* * *

From the distance, Captain Thorne watches his short-term rival. Hook landed his fighter plane in a building of Albany.

He watches the African Union ships surround the rooftop. Hook and his crew all raise their hands. Each of them look tired and stunned.

Thorne smiles. At least, he'll get three months of freedom with no rival. Hook will probably be out in a few months, and the Crocodile will continue this long, long, long dance with the captain. The duo have a long history of a cat-and-mouse game.

He salutes Captain Hook, and then he steps down from the rooftops of the skyscraper miles away from Hook's location.


	3. Quick Note

**Quick note:**

It turns out that this fanfic isn't going to be matching up to the sister fanfic ( _The War of the Captains: Captain Hook_ ). There will definitely be changes here and there, but the dialogue will be similar.

I'm going to leave this fanfic as it is. Maybe one day, I'll go back and change it. Until then, see you later.

I'll be working on _The War of the Captains: Captain Hook_.


End file.
